An Unsuspecting Heart

by Linda Turner

  Suddenly afraid he would see the truth in her eyes, she tore her gaze from his and focused on the dancing couples surrounding them. "The party seems to be going very well," she said as lightly as she could manage. "Aunt Sarah must be pleased. I know how she loves entertaining."

  "She was hoping you'd come early. We haven't seen much of you lately."

  But she and Grant had come late on purpose, hoping to avoid just such a private conversation. Cursing her luck, Katie ignored the gentle reprimand in Gallegos's voice and explained, "Grant didn't bring any formal wear with him. We had to find him a tux."

  "He seems a very determined young man where you're concerned," the older man said casually. "Should I ask him his intentions?"

  "God, no!" she gasped, horrified. "Please, you can't!"

  He chuckled, squeezing her hand. "All right, if you'd rather I didn't, I won't. Just how much do you care about this man?"

  She could have shrugged off the question or ignored it altogether. But the words were out before she could stop them. "I'm falling in love with him."

  He nodded. "I figured as much. I think, then, it would be a good idea to have him checked out," he said thoughtfully. "Just to see what he's been doing since you two got out of college."

  "No!" If her uncle discovered Grant was a private investigator, that he'd known Sam, that he'd never gone to college with her… She clutched at him, struggling to control the fear that threatened to turn her blood to ice, her words tumbling over themselves in an effort to dissuade him. "I trust him, Uncle Mike. We've known each other for years," she lied, forcing a laugh. "There's no reason to have him investigated. He isn't the type to hide an ex-wife and a couple of kids from me, you know."

  "All the same, it doesn't hurt to be too careful," he said with a paternal smile, patting her shoulder. "You just leave everything to me."

  "But—"

  "There's your Aunt Sarah now," he interrupted, looking past her shoulder as his wife stepped onto the terrace. "Come over and say hello to her before Grant monopolizes you again."

  He gave her no choice as he led her across the terrace in a protective, loving way that set her teeth on edge. Curbing her impatience, she greeted her aunt with a smile and a hug and listened to all the latest gossip. Katie only listened with half an ear. Where was Grant? she wondered wildly. Nodding at friends her aunt waved to across the crowd of dancers, she surreptitiously searched for his bearded face. He was nowhere in sight. She had to find him!

  Her nerves were balanced on the fine edge of panic when her uncle finally moved away to talk to someone in the living room and she was left alone with her aunt. "Aunt Sarah—"

  "I know, dear," the older woman laughed. "You're anxious to find that young man of yours." She grinned at Katie's surprise. "Mike told me the whole story. Bring him over later. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

  Did she know of her husband's treachery? Once, Katie would have dismissed the niggling thought as ridiculous, but now she couldn't be sure. Appearances were so deceptive. Swallowing the tears that suddenly burned her throat, she whispered, "I'll do that, Aunt Sarah," then turned to wind her way through the dancers.

  Her progress through the house was slowed by the mad crush of people and the old friends who continually stopped her to reminisce, to ask after Ryan, to discuss the new political candidate her uncle was backing. After dragging herself away from five different people, Katie darted up the stairs, her heart pounding as she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see her uncle dogging her footsteps. The stairs were empty, except for two older women who had just left the guest room set aside for the ladies' use. They were heading back downstairs to the party.

  Her breath slipping out on a silent sigh, Katie hurried down the upstairs hallway, quickly checking every room along the way. They were all empty, including her aunt and uncle's bedroom and the small, private study that adjoined it. Where was Grant?

  The sound of a woman's laughter floated up the stairs, followed by a man's deeper chuckle. Katie cursed silently. The last thing she needed was someone to spot her at the opposite end of the hall from the ladies' room and start wondering what she was doing. Gathering up the flowing folds of her skirt, she darted down the narrow back stairs.

  Bedlam reigned in the kitchen. The caterer's staff scrambled around wildly, jumping to follow his orders as he prepared more hors d'oeuvres. No one even noticed her as she glided through the kitchen and stepped into the back hallway that led only to her uncle's office and the garage.

  It was deserted there, the sounds of the party distant and muted. Rubbing at the ache that suddenly pounded in her temples, Katie leaned against the wall and willed her scattered thoughts to organize. Grant had to be here somewhere, and when she found him, she was going to kill him! How could he search the house with a party going on? If he was discovered…

  She pushed that thought away, refusing to even consider it, and found her eyes lingering on the closed door halfway down the hall. Her uncle's private office. Grant didn't know the layout of the house, but she knew with a growing certainty that he was there.

  She entered soundlessly, expecting to catch him off guard. But she'd no sooner pushed the door open and taken one step inside when she found herself grabbed from behind, her startled cry muffled by the hand that clamped over her mouth.

  "Shh. It's me," he whispered in her ear. "What are you doing here?"

  His warm breath sent a tingle sliding down her neck, infuriating her. "What do you think I'm doing here?" she whispered, dragging his hand from her mouth. "I'm trying to save your neck! What would you have done if my uncle had walked in just now? He could have, you know. It's only a matter of time before he notices we're both missing and comes looking for us. We've got to get out of here!"

  "In a minute," he promised, releasing her. "Stand by the door and keep watch while I finish searching his desk. He's bound to have something here … records, correspondence, an illegal bank account…"

  She stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Are you crazy? He's not going to keep any incriminating evidence in an unlocked office."

  His grin was quick, smug, wicked. "Who said it wasn't locked?"

  "I should have known," she groaned. "Damn it, Grant, he said he was going to have you investigated! If he finds out that we didn't go to college together or that you're a private investigator—"

  "He won't. Now hurry up. We haven't got much time."

  What was it about the man that made her trust him so? Muttering under her breath, she moved to the door and pulled it open a crack, just enough so she would hear anyone coming. "It's clear," she whispered.

  He searched the desk with the thoroughness of a professional thief, rifling through every drawer and even searching for false bottoms. He thought he'd found something when he unlocked a drawer to discover a leather-bound notebook, but it was only the corporate books for Gallegos Construction, Inc. Swearing, he replaced it and locked the drawer, turning his attention to the stack of papers on top of the desk. But that, too, proved to be a futile search. The desk was clean.

  Katie pressed her ear to the crack in the door, listening to the silence that echoed in the hall. Her nerves twisted tighter. "Grant, I don't like this. We've been gone too long."

  He knew she was right, but he'd searched everything but the bookcase. If he'd had only himself to consider, he would have taken the chance and be damned. But he wouldn't put her in the position of being found snooping in her uncle's house. "There's probably nothing in it, anyway," he grumbled to himself. "I guess the old man really is too sharp to hide anything in his own home."

  Quickly returning everything to its place, he took a minute to make sure the room was exactly as it was when he'd stepped into it, then hurried to Katie's side. "All right, let's get out of here."

  The minute they stepped into the hall, Grant pulled the door closed behind them and soundlessly checked to see that it was locked. Nodding, he started to urge Katie toward the kitchen when they heard Gallegos's low voice comi
ng from the garage at the other end of the hallway. They froze.

  "I just got word it's all set up for tomorrow night," the old man told an unseen companion. "Once the job's done, head for forty-one. There's a turnoff a half a mile after the third rest area, but you'll have to go slow or you'll miss it. Don't mess up."

  There was a murmured response and then the sound of the door leading to the garage opening. Katie looked wildly at the kitchen door twenty feet away. They'd never make it. Trapped, she turned to Grant and saw that he, too, realized that their luck was about to run out. Without a single wasted movement, he pushed her up against the wall and covered her mouth with his.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

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  She had time only to gasp before he was plummeting her into a hot, raging vortex of desire. Somewhere in her consciousness, she knew the kiss was for her uncle's benefit, a cover to distract him from their real purpose. But her body wasn't concerned with reasons, only need. Hunger gnawed at her and grew hot and spicy with danger. Grant's tongue teased hers, stroking her, tempting her to play the game with no holds-barred. With a soft moan, she clutched him, shuddering, and desperately tried to concentrate on the precariousness of their position. But with every slide and dart of his tongue, she was sinking deeper and deeper into a mindless passion.

  The fine hairs at the nape of his neck warned Grant the minute Gallegos stepped from the garage into the hallway, but he never lifted his mouth from Katie's. Even if he'd had hours to fill himself with the taste of her, it wouldn't have been enough. These mere seconds were nothing but torture. Greedy for all he could have of her, he took as much as the moment would allow and silently damned the man he knew stood watching them.

  When Grant finally ended the kiss, Katie was pliant in his arms, and his body was hard with need. He glanced up, acted as if he'd only just now spotted Gallegos, then looked back at Katie. "We have company, sweetheart," he murmured.

  Katie blinked, her mind hazy with passion, and followed his gaze to her uncle. Reality returned in a blinding flash. "Uncle Mike!" Did he know they'd just been searching his office? Did he know what they'd just overheard? She jerked out of Grant's arms. "I…"

  Grant stepped forward into the awkward silence and slipped his arm around her tense shoulders. She was as stiff as a board against him, but he never even looked at her as he shot the older man a rueful grin. "I guess we've been caught red-handed, so we might as well fess up. Katie was giving me a tour of the house," he confided. "It's a pretty impressive place, and I couldn't wait to see the rest of it. We took advantage of this deserted hallway. Hope you don't mind."

  Gallegos's gaze rested on his closed office door for a long tense moment before he shrugged, his easy smile belied by the sharp glint of his eyes. "No, of course not. But I doubt that there's anything back here that would interest you. Just my office and the garage."

  Her mind working furiously, Katie suddenly remembered the antique car her uncle kept stored in the garage. "I was just going to show Grant the Packard. He's never seen one," she said quickly.

  It was a hastily conceived lie, and Grant didn't doubt for a minute that the old man saw that. But he seemed to be glad to play the game as well as they did because he wore the indulging face of the perfect host. "Katie tell you it's a '26?" he asked proudly as he turned back to the garage. "It's in damn fine shape. Come and take a look at it, and then we've got to get back to the party. Some of your parents' old friends were asking about you, Katie, and I know you'd like to see them."

  They spent the next ten minutes admiring the car and ignoring the tense way they were all eyeing each other. Katie listened to the two men's easy conversation and told herself this couldn't be happening. She could almost feel the hostility lying in wait just behind her uncle's smile.

  By the time they rejoined the party, her stomach was twisted in knots, her smile frozen. Under Gallegos's eagle eye, she was forced to introduce Grant to old family friends, then stand trapped in the conversations that followed. All the while, a voice in hey head urged her to leave. Now. Before it was too late.

  When Gallegos finally excused himself, Katie almost wilted in relief. Until she saw he was heading for the back of the house and his office. She tensed. Had Grant put everything back so that Gallegos wouldn't know they'd been in his study? The older man was as sharp as a hawk. If so much as one paper was out of place…

  "Let's dance," Grant suggested and pulled her back into the swirling dancers.

  Katie clutched at him, her eyes on her uncle's disappearing back. "We've got to get out of here! Uncle Mike is going back to check out his office."

  "He won't find anything," he replied confidently, easing her closer. "I put everything back just the way I found it."

  She glared at him, in no mood to be reassured. "It doesn't matter if you wiped the place clean of fingerprints, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knows we were in his office. We've got to leave before he comes back."

  "And look like we're running from something?" he scoffed. "Not on your life." Skillfully guiding her through the dancers, he moved toward the outer edge of the terrace, where it was less congested and they wouldn't be overheard. Glancing down at her face, he flashed her a grin. "Come on, sweetheart, lighten up. All the man knows is that we were necking in the hallway outside his private office. His locked private office," he stressed. "He may be suspicious as hell, but even if he knew we searched the place, what could he do? Confront us in front of all these people?"

  He was right, of course, but she couldn't forget how easily Leo had been disposed of. "It's not now that I'm worried about," she admitted huskily. "If he gets it in his head that we're a real threat to him—"

  "Don't cross a bridge that we may not even come to," he advised in a low voice. "After what we've heard tonight, your uncle's house of cards is about to come tumbling down around his ears."

  Alarm stiffened her spine. Something big was going down tomorrow night, something she knew Grant had no intention of missing. She was too good a reporter to ignore a lead that had virtually dropped into her lap, but the woman in her wanted nothing to do with this. Her fingers clutched at him. "Grant—"

  "Later," he whispered as another couple danced closer to them. "We'll discuss it when we get home."

  Katie tried to relax, tried to lose herself in the romance that floated on the night air as the orchestra played one love song after another. Overhead, the full moon shone in a star-studded sky. She should have been in heaven, but she couldn't shake the feeling that things were rushing quickly to an end she wasn't ready for. Unconsciously, her gaze drifted to the open French doors where she had last seen her uncle.

  As if her thoughts had conjured him up before her, he stepped into the doorway, his lined face inflexible, his eyes carefully concealing his thoughts as he observed the crowd. Katie froze, waiting for his gaze to zero in on them, but he looked right over their heads as if he didn't see them. "He's back," she told Grant quietly.

  Grant turned her easily in the dance until he could see the old man's face. It was as impassive as ever. "He'd make a damn fine poker player," he muttered. "Come on, let's make our excuses and get out of here. We've done all we can to alleviate his suspicions."

  Their leave-taking was blessedly short. Her aunt and uncle were occupied with other guests and had time for only a quick hug and a gentle chiding for her to keep in touch before they were turning away to speak to someone else. Seconds later, she and Grant were in his car and on their way home.

  Once they were in the car, Katie slipped out of her high-heeled sandals and wearily leaned her head back against the headrest. For better or worse, she knew she would never set foot in her uncle's home again. The thought both saddened and infuriated her. Why couldn't he have been the man he pretended to be? He had more than most men ever dreamed of having—a highly successful business, a wonderful home, the friendship and affection of most of the population of Miami. Damn it, it should have been enough!

  Though
he didn't touch her, Grant could feel the anger that radiated from her. "You heard what Gallegos said in the garage," he said finally, shattering the silence that engulfed them. "He's got big plans for tomorrow night, and we're going to be there. He mentioned forty-one. I presume there's a Highway 41 around here somewhere."

  "It runs east and west across the state between Miami and Naples, on the Gulf coast. The rest area he mentioned…" She swallowed, and tried again, this time in a voice deliberately devoid of emotion. "It's not too far from where Sam was killed."

  He shot her a quick look, then turned his eyes back to the road. "So the road cuts through the swamps."

  She nodded. "Actually, it runs through the Everglades first, then the Big Cypress National Preserve. That's a pretty desolate area. There's not much out there but grasslands, a few small Indian villages, and the swamps."

  "Just how thick are the swamps?"

  Dark images of the thick wilderness she'd waded through with the rest of the search party looking for Sam rose up before her, haunting her. She shuddered. "Some of it's not too bad, but there are some sections you'd need a machete to get through. You could wander around for weeks and never find your way out."

  "Or hide a drug operation without anyone even suspecting," he concluded. "It sounds like the perfect place for the Colombians to deliver the coke."

  "A good pilot could set a small plane down back in there somewhere if he had nerves of steel," she agreed. "But I wouldn't want to ride with him. One mistake and he'd crash in the trees."

  He snorted cynically. "Life comes cheap to these guys, and their bosses in South America are paying them enough to take the chance. They fly in the drugs, Gallegos has trucks there to take the coke to the refinery until it can be distributed, and everybody's happy."

  "Leo must have told Sam everything," she decided. "That's why Sam was out there that night in the rain. But someone must have realized he was on to them—"